Constantine: Keanu's got a Whole New Bag - almost - and it looks good

Well, it's worth it. Worth seeing, worth enjoying. The dark side in cynical stride. Lucifer getting the finger, a satanically possessed Lynda Blair clone getting punched in mush when talking trash rather than sprinkled with holy water, all by a chain-smoking guy just trying to get to heaven. Keanu Reeves has found his metier.

Few lines, terse rejoinders, skinny black ties. It's a wonderful follow up to the Matrix. The 1999 Matrix that is. Here, Reeve's character is self-possessed without being prepossessed (or in the context of the film, possessed).

Maybe it's a reach, but Reeve's black clad hero/anti-hero is not unlike Clint Eastwood's from his spaghetti westerns to his Unforgiven gritty ex-assassin. And look what's happened to Eastwood, how many oscars later? Could the same be in the future for Reeves?

Why not? the quiet Canadian has had a most excellent career, moving from the comic Bill and Ted to the intensity of My Own Private Idaho, to the genre making Matrix. And now Constantine. The successes help make one forget the uncomfortable casting of Little Bhuda, Dracula (and that awful accent) or Much Ado. He somehow inhabits the unreal in film more effectively, more believably than the real. Why is that?

Which is what reminds me of Eastwood, in all his loner guises. More presence with fewer lines. Compelling to watch. Humourous touches (touchees) around the edges (Reeve's delivery of "I know Kung Fu", for instance, in the Matrix; Eastwood's high fiving a chimp in Every Which Way but Loose).

In any event, Constantine is worth seeing. If you want to know more about the film, Andrew O'Hehir has a great review of the film in Salon.